Sit back, Relax, and enjoy the ramblings of my race at Ironman Texas.
Swim:
Many
lessons were learned in my 2011 race here in Texas so I had a new strategy to
approaching the mass start. I got caught in the insanity that was the buoy line
last year and had no interest in that fight. Instead I lined up to the far
right as we worked our way into the water. The temperature of the water was
80.4 degrees so wetsuits were out of the question. I did get to race in my new
Blue Seventy PTX3 Skinsuit which was amazing. No comparison to the XTERRA
Skinsuit I used in the past few years. The Blue Seventy suit was so much more
comfortable and well built. The race was to start at 7 am and to get a decent
position on the start line you needed to get in at about 6:45 which meant 15
minutes of close contact treading. Kick, punch, heal, thigh, calf, ouch, ouch,
ugh....let's go please. 
The clock approached 7 and it was go time. The cannon
fired and it was time to go to work. Head down and I immediately found clean
water. I remember thinking to myself "this will not last long" since
at this point last year I was already pummeled. I got into a nice groove,
focused on my timing, and went. Had a few run ins on the way out to the first
turn but nothing like last year. The first turn buoy seemed to never come. It
was one yellow buoy after the next....after the next....after the
next.....where the fuck is the red turn buoy? Finally it came and I was around
it with no contact....what's going on I though....am I way far back? Am I way
far up? Did everyone drown? Whatever it was I was ok with it. Next turn was the
same and I was having fun in the water for the first time ever. That lasted for
about 20 minutes until the right hand turn down the canal of misery. This canal
is no more than 75 feet wide and it's shallow. One would think that hundreds of
athletes swimming in the same direction down a canal would create a current of
some sorts...but not in the canal of misery....that would make too much
sense...it chooses to defy logic and physics and make life even harder for the
athletes. The canal is also where everyone who just swam beyond their ability
for 40 minutes come to a complete halt and create a ton of traffic. All the
clean water I had enjoyed earlier was now gone. Few punches, kicks, and even
what looked like a panicked hug from one athlete was delivered during the canal
of misery.
I remember the sheer joy of seeing the swim exit and reaching the
stairs out of the water. Looked at the clock expecting the worse and was
surprised by the best swim performance I ever turned in during Ironman. Long
day ahead but a great start.
T1:
Transition
is normally uneventful and I like it that way. Got my bag, in the tent, shoes
on, helmet on, race belt on, sunglasses on, nutrition check, BOOM....sprint to
the bike. And I did.....I hauled ass through and was out beginning to end in
well under 3 minutes. Let's Ride.
Ride:
Ahhhhhhhh...my
favorite part of Ironman and the part I believe makes me good at it. Part
power, part discipline, part nutrition, all speed. I quickly got into my
groove, locked into my targeted wattages, and got my nutrition rolling. I
quickly realized that this was not going to be like last year. We were gifted
some cloud cover last year and Mother Nature waited for the marathon to open
the sky's and pound us with sun. This year there were no clouds, no where to
hide, and it was hot already...at 8 in the morning. I was in a good place and
quickly passing droves of athletes. It was a comedy show as I knew by watching
which athletes passing me were going to explode in an amazing display of
undisciplined riding and it was a show. Texas is not the corse where 20 miles
into the bike you should see people hammering past you out of the saddle,
pushing 350 watts or more on a 3% incline that lasts 100 meters....that's
asking for trouble....but I was thankful for their entertainment. I stayed
disciplined and kept rolling and getting in my nutrition. At about 60 miles
into the bike I had something happen that never happened before. I was
cooking!!! Physically I could feel the heat and I felt like a egg frying. I actually
thought "I want to get off this bike....I'm miserable....and I have 52
miles left....oh shit". This was not good..my head was not going to a good
place. It was time to regroup. I spent the next miles trying to break the race
into manageable chunks but I noticed that my thinking was getting foggy....what
mile am I on...didn't I just pass that....when's the next aid station...damn
it's hot. Here is where last year was kinder also...the returning head wind was
brutal and relentless. For the rest of the ride we would have the hot wind in
our face. It was at this point I started to think maybe I behind on my
nutrition and needed to make an adjustment. One of my bottles of Ironman
Cocktail we figured out last year was empty and I was struggling to reach the replacement
behind my seat. Time for some stretching and to get this damn bottle. So I get
up out of my aero bars, one bottle hanging from my teeth, turned almost
completely around to my right and I finally get my hand on the bottle. Pull it
out and put it in my cage and with the other bottle still dangling from my
teeth I see someone on my right...I glance over to see an official giving me a
red card. WTF???? What the hell did I do? "Drafting".... I asked
where and when.....he responded "just now"....you mean while I was
fumbling with my bottles? "Yes" he responded. So your telling me I
accidentally drifted into the 3 bike length buffer while getting my bottles
straight and that's drafting? He responded that I had been there longer than 15
seconds and it didn't matter if I gained no advantage....I broke a rule. Where
was he for the blatant drafters? So I got to spend 4 damn minutes at the mile
90 penalty tent watching people zoom on by and all because I lost my focus.
Lesson learned. The cooking continued. I remained focused on the task at hand.
I fought, regained a handle on my nutrition, stayed hydrated (peed 4 times on
the bike), and tried to get in a good place mentally to go to war on the run.
Bike
split was solid (actually faster than last year without the penalty and it was
a harder day).
T2:
Calm,
collected, and fast is how I wanted to approach this transition. Mission
accomplished on all fronts. Time to sunscreen up and run.
Run:
This
section should be titled "A tale of two Bob's". As I got out on the
run course I was happy to see my body responding very well. I felt amazing! All
the negative thoughts that had rolled through my head had been clensed and I
was back to my old self. It was time to go to war. I had never been able
(mentally) to race the marathon during an Ironman and that was what I trained
myself to do this year….simple…race the marathon. If I was going to pop I was going to
discover where my limit was that day and have no regrets (easier said than done
with the no regrets part). As I hit my stride it I felt great and the miles
were clicking off quickly. I was on target with my nutrition taking in the
calories I needed at each aid station and trying to manage my core body
temperature as best I could……but fuck it was hot. Each aid station was a hit of my flask
full of 2nd Surge Gel chased with Coke, Water, Perform, more Water,
and packing in the ice. Strangely the aid stations seem to have run out of ice
(or didn’t
have any in the first place) come the second lap. My pace was slowing on the
second lap but not to a degree where I was concerned. I wanted to get through
it as cleanly as possible and then leave it all on the course the 3rd
lap…..little
did I know how much I would leave out there. The story changed at mile 18 as I
grabbed a cup of water, tossed it back, and started to vomit. No warning signs,
no bloating, no stomach discomfort, nothing would have prepared me for my guts
coming up in an instant. I let it all loose for about 90 seconds and was able
to regroup….”lets get moving” I thought. About 6 steps
later it happened again…..and then for the next 8 miles anything I did above a trot
resulted in vomiting (or dry heaving at that point). I was reduced to a 15
minute mile walking pace as I stumbled my way towards the days end. My heart
hurt with sadness and disappoint as I plugged along watching my race slip away.
Mile 25 added another dynamic to the day. As I passed the 25th mile
marker and had 1.2 miles left in my day, I was passed by an asshole screaming “get out of my way…I’m on my last lap”!!! Really….am I not…are you on your way to the course record…..and I holding back from your
winning lottery ticket? This was ridiculous and I was reinspired. No matter how
much I dry heaved, no matter how much I vomited, no matter how bad I hurt…….I am going to get his
asshole. I pick up the trot a bit, gagged a few times, and picked it up again.
I kept him in site but he still pulled away. When we entered the long and
winding finish chute (which in its cruelty finished up hill), I uncorked a finishing
kick like I was back in college running the 5000m. I gave it everything I had
and caught him at the line! Take that……..your finisher photo will forever have you looking to your
left at me….the
guy who was in your way!
The
aftermath….I
dropped….got rushed
to the medical tent….3 bags of fluid, anti-nausea meds, body packed with ice,
electrolyte imbalances, BP was way high, body hated me.
At the
end of the day I went 10:38 which included 8 miles of walking…not bad for an effort that put
me in the darkest place I have ever visited racing. At first I was disappointed,
but I now am proud as hell that I went there, That I dared to race the Ironman,
and this time I came up just a tough short. Next time (in 8 weeks in Lake
Placid) the story will be different.
Thanks to
all my sponsors at Wattie Ink, K-Swiss (the Kwicky Blade Lights are insane),
Blue Seventy (loved my speed suit), ISM (the Time Trial Saddle is pure love),
Pacific Health Labs (mmmmmm….good nutrition….mmmmm), Carytown Bikes, Inspiring HR, and of course
Central Virginia Endurance!
